The invitation comes casually.
Like it's nothing.
"Few of us are heading out tonight," one of the producers says after rehearsal. "You should come. See the city properly."
See the city properly.
Zane smirks."Finally."
The club sits above street level.
Glass exterior.
Music vibrating through metal before they even step inside.
The line parts when the host recognizes someone in their group.
Names matter here.
Faces matter more.
Inside—
Light fractures everything.
Blue.
Pink.
Gold.
Bass pulses through his ribs.
For the first time since arriving—
The city doesn't feel distant.
It feels electric.
Someone hands him a drink.
He doesn't ask what it is.
He doesn't need to.
The crowd swells around him.
Artists.
Influencers.
Industry people who talk in shorthand.
He recognizes a few faces from charts.
They recognize his.
"Calder, right?" someone shouts over the music.
He nods.
They grin like he's already inevitable.
It feels good.
Too good.
He laughs easily.
Leans into conversations.
Answers questions about upcoming releases with controlled mystery.
"Big things coming," he says.
He means it.
He believes it.
For a while.
The music shifts.
Someone pulls him closer to the dance floor.
Camera flashes spark.
He doesn't flinch.
This part he understands.
Movement.
Heat.
Noise.
Alive.
He throws his head back and laughs at something someone says.
The bass drops again.
The city roars with him.
This is what he chased, isn't it?
Energy.
Momentum.
Being seen.
For a moment—
The loneliness disappears.
A girl with glitter at the corner of her eyes leans closer.
"You're different in person," she says.
"Better or worse?"
She smiles.
"Dangerous."
He laughs.
Dangerous is easier than vulnerable.
Someone else pulls him into another conversation.
Another drink appears.
Then another.
Time dissolves into flashes.
Stories told too loudly.
Hands clapping shoulders.
Music shaking the floor.
He's magnetic again.
Untouchable.
Uncontained.
Later—
On the rooftop patio.
The air cooler.
The skyline endless and glittering.
He leans against the railing.
City wind brushing against the tailored coat.
The noise below muffled now.
One of the other artists lights a cigarette.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" he says.
"What?"
"This. The rise."
Zane looks out over the buildings.
It does feel good.
Like acceleration.
Like confirmation.
He nods slowly.
"Yeah."
His phone vibrates in his pocket.
He almost ignores it.
Almost.
He glances down.
Sunny.
Just a simple message.
Did you eat dinner?
He stares at it.
The city stretches endlessly in front of him.
Music thudding faintly behind him.
Laughter echoing from below.
He types:
Yeah.
Deletes it.
Types:
Out with some people. It's wild here.
Sends.
She responds:
Have fun 💛
That heart.
Small.
Soft.
Steady.
The rooftop suddenly feels colder.
He slides the phone back into his pocket.
Turns toward the party again.
Back toward light.
Noise.
Motion.
Someone calls his name.
He steps forward.
And for a moment—
He lets the city swallow him whole.